Sometimes Sorry Isn't Enough
by Traxer
Summary: The story what happens when forbidden love is sought, evil is unlocked, and a bat comes to Redwall. A dark and twisted tale of odd content and strange narrative. Part Three: Abbot's Choice, started.
1. Chapter 1

The clouds of thick fog floated over the realms of Mossflower Woods. The breeze moved it along in its path between damp trees and across grass sprinkled with dewdrops. The sun already had reached the height of its midday arch, even though its shape couldn't be seen in this weather, only the dispersed beams filtered through the fog, setting the hue of everything in strange, almost gloomy setting.

Some beasts only see the gloomy, when a few others see something else.

Zephyr was one of those few. This weather, the warm humid mists of the flowing fog, was perfection to all senses. He opened his wings to the air to have the sensation embrace his body, perspiration forming on his fur and skin. He loved it up here on the ramparts of the Abbey, away from the bustle indoors and in the quiet, except for these warms winds for which he was named, the zephyr, the western breeze from the ocean that came here, to the western wall of Redwall Abbey where he, a bat stood, wings still outstretched, his eyes closed.

"How are you doing, my son?"

Swiftly, Zephyr folded his wings about him and opened his eyes, "Abbot Reamus, I should ask the same of you, for you are all damp on account of me if that is the reason you are here."

"Think nothing of it, I enjoy this weather as much as you do, my damp fur aside. I find the strangeness of Mossflower on days such as this are oddly satisfying to the soul." The squirrel Abbot removed his hood, sighing.

"I know."

The Abbot threw a surprised glance at the bat, who still stared out over Mossflower, "Yes, I always underestimate your powers of observation Zephyr."

"It's most likely the ears."

"So you know about Marcus."

"I know very well what he is saying and there is nothing to be said against it. To fight would to instigate and whom do you think would end up on the losing side?" Zephyr caught himself from his anger, that fire that grew inside and he calmed the flames. "I'm sorry Abbot. I shouldn't speak of doubting the Abbey Warrior..."

"It would never be accepted it I said this elsewhere," Abbot said, scarcely above a whisper, "But I do not believe a word of what he says."

For the first time since the Abbot arrived, the bat looked at the squirrel's face in a light of admiration and soon saw that the Abbot's face was not only damp from the humid air; tears dripped from his eyes. "I just cannot believe that he could hold so much hate..."

"It is the way of a warrior."

"You know what I mean."

They stood in silence for a long time, watching the thick blankets of wisping white continue to flow over the forest, thinking about the seasons past...

• • •

"Take on that crazy mouse near the main building, I'll organize a force to take on those otters."

Zephyr heard the order pasts the mists of red. He would obey. He had been trained to obey, to fight, to kill.

There was something different about him, not like the rest. In the dark of the caves of their usual dwelling lands, the quiet, he hung there awake, thinking.

Their tribe wasn't supposed to think; they were supposed to act for blood.

He couldn't shake the thought that something was wrong, that he was sinking himself in a muck that was not his, a bloody pool drowning him.

He pushed it away further and further as the seasons past but every time he tasted blood, it returned.

The mouse killed with every swing of his great sword, cutting down Zephyr's fellow tribemembers with ease. Zephyr took in the situation and acted he came down low and hard, under the predictable paths of that sword. He teeth sunk into the mouse's footpaw. The mouse screamed, fell backwards, the sword falling from his grasp. The orders repeated in Zephyr's mind, Itake care of the crazy mouse/I. He would take care to rip out his throat. There were no prisoners taken by vampire bats, only carcasses left behind.

As focused as he was, he didn't see the mousemaid coming at him until the last moment and in that last moment his orders departed him as he saw that mousemaid's face.

The pot she swung came down hard on his head.

• • •

"You are not a vampire bat," he was told, where he lie, tied to one of the infirmary beds.

"Why should that matter? We should have gotten rid of him right away. I don't see why we should bother with this obviously evil creature," Markus fumed, the Abbey Warrior, the creature that Zephyr had attacked. He still limped from the injury as he stalked to the bedside.

The bat decided to ignore him and he refocused on Lily, the mouse infirmary keeper, and the Abbot, "I'm not?"

"No, you must have been taken in by them and made to think you were. The resources in the Gatehouse confirm you are not one of them," the Abbot explained.

Lily, the mouse that had dwelt him a blow with that pot, kindly rubbed his head, "Which means you are not a monster."

"It is! That thing is a monster! If we release him it will kill all of us! Just like it's kind! I will not..."

"Markus," the Abbot cut the mouse off, "There is no need for this and since has been here there has been no signs of his former tendencies, I do not think he is a danger."

Markus pointed his paw in the squirrel's face, "Go ahead, and unbind him. If blood flows because of him it will flow onto your hands, Father." He hissed that last word like a frigid spike directed at the Abbot's heart yet the squirrel didn't waver as Markus limped out of the room.

The bat watched, not in anger, but in regret and pity for the soul that he had marred. He knew he was changed. That mouse was reminder of his mistakes. "I'm sorry," he called after the mouse, unsure if the words reached the warrior's ears.

• • •


	2. Chapter 2

"Isn't it lovely?" Lily sighed as she looked upon the stained glass window, lit by the beams from the full moon outside.

"Not as lovely as some creatures of this world."

"Zephyr, you mustn't tease."

"I never tease," the bat sighed, shuffling nervously on his squat legs. Seasons had passed, that felling he felt in the presence of this mousemaid never dwindled.

Lily took hold of one of his wings, "I know."

His mind buzzed as if a electricity spread from where she touched his wing, "I...I..."

"You have proven over these seasons to be the most pure of hearts that I have ever known and despite our differences, I know what I feel."

Over the past seasons, this moment appeared impossible, a dream separated by the wall his past had built.Zephyr continued to be haunted by those times and the urges stillcame, conquered as they did. For some reason he stayed at the Abbey, maybe because it was the place that broke the lie, maybe because of the kindness within these stones, maybe because of this mousemaid.

His chest contracted and he could barely breathe. Was he dreaming? No, her face was too clear, too perfect in the colored light of the stained glass, he couldn't be sleeping. "I...I...what about Marcus."

"Shhhh," Lily placed a paw on his lips, her warm smile trying to comfort him, "He is not the same anymore, I do not feel anything for him, only for you."

His mind clouded, his motions were dazed as he opened his wings and embraced the mouse to his body, her arms around his neck, bringing her closer into a kiss, a kiss that brought a blast to the senses.

"_You_..." somebeast gasped, "_You_." the word was repeated as Zephyr and Lily separated, and saw the observing figure. Markus stood there in the shadows, quivering in rage, a paw on the handle of the Sword of Martin. He waited for some comment, response, some explanation. None came. Not saying a word more, he walked out of the Great Hall, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry," Zephyr whispered after him.

• • •

Marcus stood at the head of table of Cavern Hole, lit by candlelight. It was early the next morning after the incident. He held a bottle in his hand.

"I found this in it's room when I came in to talk to it when it wasn't there."

"Who is 'it'?" the Skipper of otter's inquired, confused why the council of Redwall had been awoken at this early hour.

"Need I say?" Marcus scoffed, "That thing we call Zephyr."

"Dere baint notin' wrong wit 'im," Foremole countered.

"Oh really?" Marcus pulled the cork from the bottle and upturned it. A thick, dark red pored out onto the wooden table, spreading into a horrible puddle, dripping through the cracks, flowing down the table. "This is whatit does to appease itself.It stalks Mossflower, finds a hapless beast and drains them of their blood forits own satisfaction, just likeits tribe."

The room was struck speechless by this. The council pulled their eyes away from the blood and to the squirrel Abbot, who had remained silent so far. The response he gave came scarcely as a whisper, "What proof do you have?"

"Isn't this enough?" Marcus yelled, his paw fist pounding to the table, spattering the blood onto himself, "I was visited last night by Martin..."

Agasp fell at the mention of that name.

"He told me of this thing's deceit and actions. He told me of what it was up to. He told me where to find this bottle. He told me we must get rid of this monster or we will die."

"How can you..." the Abbot began.

"How can I what? Say what Martin told me? He is the protector of this Abbey and I am the chosen Abbey Warrior. I believe we should listen to Martin, Father Abbot!"

Zephyr heard every word from the top of the stairs leading down to Cavern Hole.

• • •

The bat and squirrel stared out at the surreal, foggy realms of Mossflower, thinking, hoping for answers.

"I'm sorry," the Abbot said.

Zephyr sighed for what seemed the hundredth time. He glanced behind him, at the misted Abbey grounds, at the orchard, at the pond, at the main building, at the bell tower whose top was lost to the clouds. A drizzle started to fall.

"I was on rented time Father. I know what I have to do. Thank you."

The Abbot didn't respond, he didn't even move, he kept staring at the treetops of Mossflower, letting the drizzle completely soak his fur.

((OCC: One more part to go))


	3. Chapter 3

Zephyr slipped through the shadows of the night, as silent as a bat, a pack slung over his shoulder. He made for the Abbey wall. The lawn was still wet as he shuffled along it. He could have flown to make his leave easier, he knew that. His heart didn't want to leave this place so soon.

As quiet as he was, somebeast followed him, coming closer and closer until...

"Zephyr."

Lily came up besides him, her brown fur a dull gray in the light of a full moon thatfiltered through the clouds. Zephyr could tell she'd been crying.

He both was glad and depressed to see her, it brought music to his heart, but it also made what he had to do much harder. The words would not come, so he embraced her in his wings for what he knew would be the last time.

Either hours or minutes passed, neither creature could tell. The moon escaped from the thick clouds, diminishing the night a little, breaking the spell.

"I cannot stay when I know that if I do, pain shall stay also. I do not want to bring hate to hearts of anyone in this Abbey. I do not belong here," Zephyr tried to explain, his voice almost breaking.

"Love, would love be enough?"

"Not if it meant pain for even you, fair Lily." He released her and turned away.

He should have saw it coming, the shadow that was coming across the lawn towards them, the shadow that held only hate and malice for these two creatures.

A weighted net came over Zephyr, knocking the bat to the ground, ensnaring him.

In the moment of shock, Lily wasn't prepared for the paw that took her from behind.

"Leaving so soon Zephyr?" Marcus asked, a cruel manic edge to the words, "Allow me to give you and your sweetheart a going away present."

Lily was crying, the edge of the Sword of Martin pressed against her neck. Zephyr struggled to get free, "Why? What are you doing?"

"It would horrible if a body was found mutilated on the lawns as the rays of sunshine washed upon our Abbey. The lovely infirmary keeper murdered with the evident bite marks of a bat. Thankfully, the valiant Abbey warrior caught the bloodthirsty killer before he could escape."

"You cannot get me to bite her."

"Who says I need you?" Marcus said, in his free paw, a grisly item appearing, the skull of one of the vampire bats that had been killed in that siege long ago. Its white surface glowed in the moonbeams. "I'm sure once they find out your true nature, swift and painful justice shall be certain... I shall be a respected warrior again. You see, Martin _did_ visit me, but it was not to warn me of you, it was to warn of myself. Martin is weak and stupid, a figment of imagination._I _am a true Abbey warrior..."

All hope drained from the bat, he stopped struggling against the net, it was over...

A blunt sickening crack broke through the night.

Marcus' grip on Lily slackened, his body went ridged and his eyes were transfixed as he fell to the wet grass, never to rise again.

Abbot stood behind him, trembling, a piece of red stone in his paws. "Leave..."

Lily had already removed the net from Zephyr and they both stared at the Abbot, as he knelt down to Marcus' body and held the mouse's head. "He was right, if blood flowed because of you, it would be on my paws. You must leave this place, dawn shall be in a few hours..."

"But..." Lily tried to object.

"You must, to have a life away from this, to be clean of these things..." the squirrel was crying now, "Go."

Zephyr placed a wing around her, turning her away from the horrible sight, tears now coming to his own eyes as he looked upon the Abbot and the Warrior. He saw the dead mouse's still open eyes, "I'm sorry…"

O O O

((OCC: Soon, the epilogue of this tale. This actually a short story, but I seperated it into different chapters here. That may explain its short nature. Possibly I shall expand this someday. For now, I think its point is made.))


	4. Epilogue

**Epologue**

_Rumors about the Redwall Abbey's misfortune spun across the land in the seasons after these events: the whispers around campfires, tales that could not be proven. Murder some said, others claimed it was justice. It depended on the opinion of the beast._

_Of the events truths, I know only what I am told and I know some questions shall never be answered. I am amazed on what has inscribed here from the questions that __could be answered._

_Zephyr and Lily did leave the Abbey, heading west, where they stumbled upon Bat Mountpit. It was there that Zephyr found the family he lost in infanthood. Soon after they arrive there, he and Lily gained an addition to their own family.  
_

_I know that some details shall be never be known to me, some memories are meant to be locked away, and that some stories shall never be opened. My father told me that and when he embraces me in his wings the comfort it gives ensures me that he never wants me to touch the darkness he has witnessed. That is why he told me the story. He said never mention it to mother, especially anything about Marcus. I can guess the untold but I don't want to._

_We live on the Southern shores now, in the warmth and the near the sound of rolling waves, in peace._

_Father says one day, when he and mother are gone, I should return that Abbey, to tell the story, to tell the truth and to find love within those walls._

_That is why I write this story, for love, the love of my mother and father, Lily and Zephyr._

Marigold

Mouse Recorder of the Western Shores


	5. Lily's Story

**OOC: **It took me a long time to get myself to write another part of this tale. It may not be an addition that would would expect, but I think it was completely worth it to dwell into. Enjoy!

**IC:**

Night lay upon the edges of Mossflower Wood, a sea of a deep darkness dispersed by fleeting moon beams that escaped from behind the cloud cover. A faint mist floated on the air, the damp tendrils of autumn creeping over the land. Two uncertain souls rested beneath dark foliage, within the shadows the forest floor they took residence.

Lily watched Zephyr as he slept, breathing evenly, hanging from the tree limb above from his feet, his wings drawn closely about him, hiding his face, though not his large ears.

He had offered to sleep next to her. She knew what comforted him and insisted that he sleep in his lateral position. . He deserved a good rest. He twitched in sleep, one wing unfurling to fend away nightmare demons, murmuring some words from another language.

Lily knew of the dark memories he held, those thoughts he refused to reveal to even her. She could guess, however.

She had her own nightmares to deal with, her own reasons to fear the realms of sleep. Lily rose and went to Zephyr, his face was just level with her own, contorted in a deep fear. She brought up her paws and rubbed the fur between his ears, whispered words of a lullaby. Voiced in sweet and calming tone, yet the lyrics held grim undertones.

_Certainty, fidelity  
On the stroke of midnight pass  
Like vibrations of a bell  
And fashionable madmen raise  
Their pedantic boring cry:  
Every farthing of the cost.  
All the dreaded cards foretell.  
Shall be paid, but from this night  
Not a whisper, not a thought.  
Not a kiss nor look be lost._

It seemed to calm him, his wing folded back around him. It didn't calm Lily. As she sang, the door in her mind she wanted to lock, opened, and the contents washed upon her.

The mouse wanted to tell Zephyr, but she didn't want to add to his own darkness. She had experienced her own grim experiences within the walls of that Abbey.

That's what connected them besides the binds of love, perhaps a stronger bond, the conflicts that connected them within Redwall.

She needed to tell him. The longer she waited the more it would hurt and eat at her heart.

• • •

"I hate you."

"That's what you always say."

"It's true this time."

"No, it isn't."

"Please. Believe me."

• • •

Lily breathed deeply, her back against the cool redstone wall, in the shadows. She wanted to be alone. She hated the lie.

The mousemaid wanted to escape from this pounding in her skull. Pounding, throbbing, sickening. Her stomach churned.

No, she wouldn't hurt him. He was sincere and kind and...she /couldn't/ hurt him. Markus said he needed her. He never lied. He was noble and true. He had vision and honor. He was a warrior by both definition and title.

The hall echoed the sound of her breathing.

What did /she/ need? She didn't know. As hard as she wanted to, she didn't. She needed to.

Shuffling. From around the corner. Lily wiped the cold sweat from her fur, dabbed at her eyes. More shuffling. She stepped around the corner. The Infirmary door lay down that way. Brother Retho had a habit of sleepwalking. It was always feared that he would stumble down the stairs one day. She's encountered him before in her late night walks. He always seems so happy in that odd state. She would get Brother Retho to bed, then try to sleep herself and forget her worries.

The familiar shadow was in the hall, silhouetted by moonbeams from a window. Something was strange though. It was Brother Retho, but he was not moving. He was slumped against the wall, shaking a little. Lily was confused. She moved closer.

Shuffling. A face appeared from behind the vole's figure, a pointed face of flat nose and large ears, dark stained in shadow. A rank smell filled the air.

"This is Redwall, correct?"

Lily suddenly felt as if she were in a dream, as if she couldn't connect the details together, as if something didn't fit quite right...She must have said something, for the mystery figure responded.

"Must be, never have we tasted blood so sweet."

Eyes flashed, not only from the figure, but from those hanging above. Shuffling. The unfolding of membraned wings. Brother Retho's head fell back, stained black, almost separated from his body, eyes orbs of white horror.

She ran.

She heard the laughing.

• • •

"Confusion. That's it. Thinking too much."

"No. Stop it. I have never thought so clearly before."

"It was meant to be."

"Only to you."

"What happened?"

"Much."

• • •

So much can happen without realizing it. So much can seem like its not really happening that by the time you realize it is happening, its over. So much can happen when there is no thought.

Vampire bats. Creatures of bloodlust. The ancient Recorder mouse had said. Markus didn't care. The bats descended upon the Abbey in a bloody swarm. He needed to save them. Deaths were many those first few days. He didn't think. The siege was drawing long and desperate. Markus took the Sword of Martin in his paws and exited Cavern Hole.

Lily wasn't supposed follow. He told her to stay; that everything would be all right. That wasn't true. Nothing would be all right for her. Maybe for him. The choice was unconscious, a blur, using the piece of cookery for defense as death descended upon the Abbey.

He was doing well when Lily came. But that one bat got to him. About to kill him. Lily wanted those jaws to bite before she came. She got a view of that face. Different than the others. Not evil. More grim and confused. Like her feelings. She saw this before the pan impacted with the bat.

Markus was unconscious. Why had she saved him? Why? She stood very still as bats closed in. A war cry rang out from below.

The otter's return was a saving grace, in the form of a lance rainfall. Bodies of the creatures littered the Abbey grounds. The siege was soon over.

The bat that Lily had hit was brought to the Inferrmy.

"We should kill him," Markus said, his footpaw bandaged, a limp in his gait, a flare in his eyes.

Lily wouldn't let him. She could see the anger. She portrayed love, though she knew now it was illusion. Markus limped about, ranted, swore. He cared not for love. He cared for vengeance. He cared for the literal bite on his honor. To Lily, he was a different mouse.

Lily wouldn't budge. He cared for her patient like all her patients. He cared for his health. He cared for his soul, though unsure what it held.

She waited for the bat to awake. To find the source of that grim and confused expression that remained on his maw in sleep.

• • •

"So it comes down to a choice..."

"There never was a choice. I just knew."

"You can't just _know_. That doesn't make sense. Listen to me. This is stupid. LISTEN!"

"No."

"This is his doing..."

• • •

Lily caught him looking at her again, with his strange black eyes. His ears twitched as he diverted his gaze back to the parchment, acting as if he were immersed in the words.

The mouse knew very well that he wasn't reading. She had barely started teaching him letters, though he showed an exceptional diligence on the matter. Though he had opened up much with the kindness of the Abbeybeasts, he remained a mystery to the mousemaid.

"You're pretty."

Zephyr was still looking down at the parchment, no hint that he may have just said something. Lily wondered if she imagined his voice and the words.

She needed to know, "Zephyr, what was that?"

Zephyr didn't react, but Lily could see him bite his lip, his fangs showing. She was curious now. What was the bat trying to say? He already knew that he wasn't a vampire bat and that he had a tough past. She could also tell he was a pure soul, of broken innocence. He hung alone every night at the highest point of the Great Hall ceiling. He refused any offers of a berth in the Infirmary. The bat seemed to fear being near anyone in the night.

Lily wondered about him at night. Hanging there all alone, only his thoughts to comfort and haunt him. She could imagine how he felt. Markus had changed since the vampire bats had been defeated.

"Are you alright?" Lily said, standing, leaning towards the bat, presenting a comforting paw.

Zephyr's eyes flashed, "I..."

"Lily, are you up for a picnic in the orchard?" Markus was by her side, catching her in embrace, his nose snuggling against her fur.

"Zephyr and I are in the middle of a lesson..."

"Pah. That membraned deformity can wait," Markus whispered.

Lily could taste the tone's poison.

"Go ahead, I'll just keep looking at this story," Zephyr said.

Markus led Lily out of the room, almost yanking her away. She caught the look in Zephyr's eyes. Her heart whispered truths untold.

_To be continued..._

**Lullaby W. H. Auden**


	6. The Smell of Moths and Honey

**The Smell of Moths and Honey**

• • •

"No."

"It had to be him. There is no other explanation for this. You can't do this..."

"Why not?"

"Because...because...Hellgates. You must see. He's poisoned your mind."

"By what: kindness, humility...love?"

• • •

In the night she held him. She couldn't turn away from it anymore. She wanted to defeat the sickness that clung to her soul. Lily couldn't look at Markus without a ripple of fear down her spine.

Markus had changed. Any doubts she had on his nature had grown since the vampire bats siege. His mind and thoughts had grown darker and more detached. He didn't talk normally anymore, only on the topics of conquest and vermin defeat. He had plans for Mossflower, plans from Martin. It scared Lily to hear him talk that way. And the way he /looked/ at her...

While Markus declined another beast improved. It seemed to Lily that it was related somehow, that the darkness of the warrior mouse was feeding the bat's light. That couldn't be true. Zephyr's light was much brighter than Markus' had ever been. At least to Lily. When she watched him, she felt the world fade away. No other beast mattered to her,

Zephyr had his episodes, mostly on nights the moon disappeared. Lily made sure he was restrained on these nights. She never told anyone. She never even told Zephyr. She claimed that the top of the Great Hall would be drafty on those nights. Lily sat alone in the dark of the infirmary, only the flickering of the lantern to comfort her. The flash of Zephyr's eyes reminded her of the death of Brother Rethor. He struggled on the floor against his bounds, bound by blankets and muzzled by twine. Lily knew he was haunted. She knew how much it would hurt him to know he was like this.

Once he calmed, she sank next to him and wrapped arms around him, rubbed his head's fur and ears, whispered a lullaby. He was warm, he smelled of honey and moths. The mousemaid lay next to him, crying.

She feared Markus.

She needed Zephyr.

"I had a very nice dream," Zephyr commented to Lily the following morning, dusty sunbeams filtering into the infirmary, "You were..." Zephyr paused and seemed to be changing his path of dialogue, "...thank you."

Zephyr didn't have an episode after that. Lily missed his smell. She worried that his gaze would lose that spark when she met it.

It didn't.

• • •

"So it comes to this, Lily."

"Markus..."

"Do you love him?"

• • •

"…I don't know what to think anymore. I can't keep my mind on anything lately and I don't…I really just want to know what to do and I want to make the right choice and…and…Everything is so complicated…"

"It seems to me, Lily, that even though you have been speaking to me long enough for me to count all the gray hairs on the back of my left paw, you have told me nothing of what you really want advice on," the Abbot squirrel said, attempting a comforting smile.

"I'm sorry, Abbot Reamus."

"No need for apologies. You are only confused and I think I understand roughly of what your heart is telling you…"

Abbot Reamus folded his paws within his sleeves, looking over his spectacles at the mousemaid. She tapped her paws on the desk, refusing to make eye contact. She choose instead to study a primitive picture of a badger a naughty Dibbun had scratched into the desk's shiny wood finish. Lily missed those moments, that deep understanding of the world, of every cloud and flower and tree and older beasts. Somehow that knowledge was lost as she grew older.

"Come, Lily," the squirrel Abbot stated, motioning the mouse to join him at the window. Lily slowly complied, sighing. The Abbey grounds were displayed below, the lush green of the grass, the orchard trees dotted by blossoms, the reflective nature of the pond, and there was Zephyr. He stood on a rowboat, catching the breeze with his wings, while a mousebabe, otterpup and molebabe squealed in joy as they sped across the pond. A line of Dibbuns stood on the shore, waiting their turns on the boat with batwing sails.

"Lily, there is nothing that says you need to be with Markus. And if you need some non-Abbot like advice, you deserve better than him."

"Abbot..."

"Markus has changed, I think perhaps for the worse, and your heart is just as pure. You've come up her for the past many afternoons to ask me such trivial things, and I know you are scared to voice them. The Fates have placed me as Abbot for a reason, you know."

Lily felt very weak, detached, almost apart from her body, Abbot Reamus' paw steadied her, "The Fates."

"Zephyr has been watching a certain mousemaid for a long time. I've seen a certain mousemaid stealing glances back. I may be superstitious, but in my heart, I feel there is something that leads beast's souls. Markus does not lead your soul, you do. Also, the physical appearance of the soul means nothing. "

There was something else, Lily thought, something she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't. She couldn't admit, she feared Markus now...

• • •

"Yes."

"Come 'ere."

"Markus...no...please."

"Hold still, and be quiet, pretty maid..."

"Please...no..."

"Ah, don't cry. Just be calm, my love."

• • •

She could still see the death in his eyes that had held crazed madness a moment before. She saw the shadow, heard the crack and managed to see his face. A flicker of fading expression as death took his soul to the foot of Hellgates.

There was a certainty in that fate.

He was gone. As she looked back upon her muddled memories, it appeared faded and old. She loved the Abbey and its inhabitants, It was her home. And yet, all nature of it was dimmed by the darkness of Markus.

Darkness would have overtaken her, if not for the creature that hung next to her.

Could it have ended differently? Could, perhaps, the seasons fallen another way? Would she be here, outside the safety of the Abbeywalls, shivering with these haunting fears upon her?

"Lily?"

Zephyr released from the branch, spun a bit in air to land besides her. She didn't respond, just stared at her paws, sniffing. She hoped Zephyr wouldn't see her tears. She knew he could. The wings wrapped around her, submersing her in his warmth, his smell, of honey and moths.

She was a simple mousemaid, how had she gotten here? She didn't deserve Zephyr's love. The bat licked her face, licked her tears away, positioned to be snout to snout. He would say sorry now, or try to tell her to go back, or say everything would be alright, or ask her what was wrong, or something. He cared so much for her. She couldn't...Zephyr's eyes looked upon her with such a level gaze of adoration that all thought flowed away from her mind.

"You are with babe."

She could tell Zephyr's mind reeled with more to say, but he didn't say anymore. He brought her closer in embrace.

She closed her eyes. "Thank you."

He sighed, "Rest, my love."

Her dreams were visited by visions of moths and honey.

• • •

Authors Note: There is a possiblity of there being a third part that follows these events. Stay tuned. Thanks for reading!


	7. The Abbot's Choice: Part One

OOC: After some delay, here is part three of this tale. Enjoy!

**The Abbot's Choice**

• • •

The Cellar of Redwall Abbey was the definition of dark. The torches had been doused and the lantern had flickered out long ago. Cool air filled the cellar, a valuble asset when aging the many cordials, ales and wines stored there, alone with preserves stacked in sconces, of fruits and vegetables, jams and butters. It was a place that special delicacies were saved, away from the sight of most Abbeybeasts, perhaps to forget for a while, until one day they stumbled upon a forgotten jar of thimbleberry jam from the far north or a strawberry apple mint cordial countless seasons old. The cellar held secrets and mysteries to be uncovered, any experienced Cellarhog knew this.

Abbot Reamus knew this too, as he sat in the dark, pondering these simple facts, not daring to dwell on anything else, not quite yet. He was bound by both rope and thoughts. The thoughts hurt him more than the tightly knotted twine on his paws. The squirrel had made sure it was tight, insisted the Skipper of Otters himself secured the knot, ensured that the Abbey was safe. He knew why he was sitting in the Cellars. He didn't think of it though. That time would come.

He breathed, not knowing if his eyes were open or closed anymore. He refused to sleep when his Abbey was in turmoil.

Murmurs came through the thick cellar door, faint discussion and the sound of a key clinking against lock.

He breathed.

The door opened, shadowed figures against a dim background. The middle one stepped forward, Cellarhog Mone holding a lantern before him, his face grim.

"Abbot Reamus. Come."

The other two figures, two burly otters, came in and took the squirrel's arms and brought him to his footpaws. Abbot Reamus was not an old squirrel. In the past days, however, he had become frail and old. He felt like old parchment, yellowed with age, and yet only half written with the ink of life. Or was it? Reamus found it hard to think straight.

The led the Abbot through Cavern Hole, numerous candles stood on the tables, lit in memoriam of life lost, the shadows flickering and rippling. No words were spoken. Abbot Reamus could see the pain in the faces of the two otters, Jape and Slipback, twin brothers, inseparable since birth, famed fighters of the Redwall otter holt. He remembered them from when they were just pups. He'd never seen them so troubled. As they got to the stairs, they both slowed on the incline, as if they couldn't make the effort, until Jape stopped. He was crying as if he were still a pup.

"Father Abbot," he whispered, "I don't understand..."

"Understanding will come with time, my son."

"If you want to escape..." Slipback started.

"I could delay them," Mone had paused to listen.

Abbot Reamus looked from face to face in grayness of the stair, "No. Anyway, you know how the old fogies on Council get when they are kept waiting."

The jest in the grim setting only accomplished small, sad smiles, and they continued up the stairs towards the Great Hall.

Abbot Reamus wished Markus were here.

No, he checked himself, Markus before he changed. Yes...

• • •

Four seasons back, the vampire bat leader sat on one side of the table perched on a chair, two of his commanders on either side of him. Or at least, that's what Reamus concluded, one could never tell with these strange creatures. He sat directly across from the bat leader: the Abbey Champion, Markus, standing by his right paw, while the Abbey Recorder, a vole named Illiam, stood by his left. These were part the terms agreed upon to negotiate.

The actual negotiation terms themselves, were less than fair, in Reamus's opinion.

"Unconditional surrender," the bat said again.

"And you agree to let all the beasts in Redwall Abbey to go free."

The bat nodded slowly. Reamus didn't like the expression on the fanged maw, he swore a grin fated that fanged maw. Neither did Markus. "Are you sure we should do this?" he whispered into the squirrel's ear.

"Markus. You agreed, there is no way you can take them all on single pawed: our armory and defenses our near nonexistent, our stores are grossly under stocked and the amount of good fighting beasts are sadly..."

"There must be ano..."

"They're listening," Illiam said in almost too low of a voice to hear.

Abbot Reamus's eyes widened as he turned to Illiam, who looked frightened, his paws fiddling his quill pen to fray. The ears of the bats were tilted, swiveled in their direction, interested. Abbot Reamus bit his lip. "We will take your offer."

He held Markus's paw to keep him from reacting.

The bat stretched a wing, studied it in a disinterested manner, "You will be leaving the older beasts, I assume."

Abbot Reamus's tail twitched.

The bat continued, "Of course, you don't expect to travel with the elder beast's slowing you. With respect, you would be surprised how well aged blood is hard to come by..."

Reamus knew there would be a catch like this. He knew the Fates wouldn't be so kind. "Then no. I refuse your offer."

The bat's eyes flashed, "No matter, I'm sure your blood will taste just fine."

One movement, the bat launched from his perch, fangs aimed at the squirrel's throat. One movement, a sword was unsheathed and slipped through air by the will of Markus's paw. One movement, blood.

The headless body of the bat lay on the table. Markus pulled the sword out of the wood. The two bats flapped awkwardly out of the window. Illiam retched. Abbot Reamus looked at his paws, glistening with blood. The head of the bat sat in his lap. The maw twitched open, the eyes flickered.

He pushed it away to roll under the table. Markus was talking to him. "Father Abbot. Are you alright?"

Reamus nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that he would do that."

"You saved me," Abbot Reamus stated, "That's all you could do."

Bloodcurdling calls rang from outside. The beastly calls of the vampire bats, realizing their leader was dead.

Illiam seemed to be in shock, "It sounds like demons from beyond Hellgates..."

"Abbot, you must go back down to Cavern Hole, you must make sure everybeast is safe."

Abbot Reamus noticed the flare in Markus's eyes. He'd seen it once before. Just before Markus had left to the North as a young mouse, and returned a few seasons later a warrior. He knew what was happening in the mouse's mind.

"No, Markus, you can't, it's suicide. You have no chance to survive those monsters. You know that. Markus..."

"Brother Illiam needs to be taken down to Cavern Hole. He's not well. He can't make it himself." It was true, the vole muttered dark things about Hellgates rising and shuffled in a daze. But the squirrel abbot could not let their champion go to his doom...

"We can hold them off from Cavern Hole until Skipper..."

The shrieks outside grew louder.

"Abbot Reamus, trust me."

The Abbot paused a moment, desperately seeking in his mind some reason, some way to get Markus to come. Instead, he nodded and took Illiam's paw to lead him out of the room.

When he glanced back, Markus was at the window. Waiting.

• • •

Abbot Reamus earned exclamation when crossing Cavern Hole. He brushed off all inquiries of injury and assured them everything was alright, but that Illiam needed help. He asked where Lily was and many paws pointed towards the kitchen. Questions kept flowing. Reamus couldn't bring himself to answer them. He continued to assure in his best Abbot tone, that Martin's spirit was with them, that they were safe here, that Markus would be coming soon.

Reamus breathed deeply once he passed the doors of the kitchen, a barrier to the questions, he insisted that solitude was needed for the infirmary keeper, Lily, to see Illiam. His mind thrummed with the event of the bloody beheading replaying over and over. That pure hate in those eyes before... But in Markus' eyes, past that determination, was the same look...

"Abbot Reamus! Are you alright?"

Lily was there, paws playing across the Abbot's habit looking for any wounds, an unsteady calm in her voice. Her talents as a healing beast had been pushed to the limit during this siege and yet she still kept her head. Abbot averted her attention to Illiam. Though he had stopped muttering about Hellgates, the vole recorder now shivered uncontrollably. "I'm not sure what's wrong with Illiam, he...saw something."

The infirmary mouse quickly evaluated the vole, checking his half-closed eyes and placing a paw on his chest. So calm. It had been she who had witnessed Brother Retho's death. She who saved beasts from the bloody wounds the vampire bats had inflicted. The Abbot couldn't understand how she could handle it. How he could handle it. As Abbot he needed to, whether he could or not was a null point.

"He's in shock. Get some blankets, Father, his footpaws need to be elevated," she pulled an oversized pot out and laid Illiam out to do so.

The Abbot watched. Markus. What was Markus thinking? Why hadn't he came with them? A warrior's spirit was a strange thing to consider, deep and winding nature of unpredictable turns and twists. This was known from the corridors of time. Reamus worried.

"Father Abbot? Abbot Reamus?" Lily had his paw, "Where's Markus?"

Abbot Reamus bit his lip. He could never lie directly, only to protect.

"The bat's leader has been killed. They...are in an uproar. Markus said...he needed to do...something..."

Silence fell between them: A deep wordless duel of expressions. Lily let go of the squirrel's paw. Reamus wanted to say something more as he saw a certain expression unfold on the mousemaid's maw. He couldn't read it but need knew he needed to stop it.

"Get blankets on him. Please, Father Abbot," Lily said. She grabbed a pan from the counter and walked out of the kitchen.

Abbot Reamus looked down at his blood stained paws, "Oh Martin..."

• • •

Badgermother Frill folded her paws and looked down at the squirrel. Reamus felt comforted under her gaze. The Abbey was in good paws to be under her care. He had nothing to fear for his Abbeybeasts with her presence.

Reality caught up. She presided the trail that evaluated the recent events that had led up to Markus's death. Her gaze was cold and judging, mixed with a deep hurt and confusion. Reamus had known her since being a little squirrelbabe and she had never changed. He understood her position. She, as everybeast else in the Abbey, sought the reason for their peace to be broken.

She spoke slowly, "Father Abbot, we know well of the events of the Vampire Bat Siege. Many of us lived through them and remember them in both memory and dreams. What circumstance does this have on this event?" The badger seemed tired, "We just need to know 'why'?"

Reamus could not think about "why" or at least not yet. He needed to develop why, for he wasn't even sure if it existed. He noticed the Great Hall was absent of any Dibbuns. That was good. The Dibbun's didn't need to know. Not yet. Perhaps in some future season, or…perhaps never. What point was there to stain their innocence?

The Great Hall was lit by lanterns and torches. He looked at the Council at the table, shrouded in shadows, both material and spectral. The Skipper of Otters scratched at the table. Foremole rubbed his digging claws over each other. Illiam the Recorder Vole chewed on his quill pen. Friar Higgin twisted his whiskers nervously. Badgermother Frill still stared down at Father Abbot, waiting. She spoke again.

"And what did the bat have to do with this?"

"Zephyr," Abbot Reamus stated.

Flill looked flustered a moment, "Yes, Zephyr, there were questions of his sanity..."

"I never had questions of _his_ sanity…"

• • •

Abbot Reamus walked the bright halls of Redwall Abbey, a peace in his step and smooth wave to his fluffy tail. The Abbey meanwhile, was almost at a state of normality, despite it only being a few days since the otters had been the saving grace of the Abbey, with their masterful tactics and aim. Most of the vampire bats left alive had fled and the dead had been disposed of. Abbot Reamus was only glad that the crisis had ended before any more Abbeybeast's lives came to an end. He was passing the second floor balcony, when he saw a familiar form leaning against the rail, looking out at the Abbey lawns.

"Markus, are you doing alright?" Reamus asked. He noted the nod, and that his footpaw was not in the bandage from the bite he had been dwelt. "Is your footpaw alright?"

"Yes, its fine."

The tone. It was a tone suppressing fire. Reamus moved closer. "A feast is being planned, to celebrate the otter's efforts and yours also. Friar Higgle is putting his full maw and whiskers into setting the menu. And Frill is setting up games for the Dibbuns and..."

"For the otters. Not me."

"What?"

"The feast is for the otters rescuing us."

A cool breeze came across the warm summer, as Abbot Reamus put a paw on Markus's shoulder, "You saved my life. You saved all our lives. The bats were defeated. You were a major part of defeating them,"

"They weren't all defeated."

"Some flew away. I'm sure they won't return..."

"That's not what I mean. Go see Lily."

Markus limped off the balcony. Abbot Reamus stood there, confused. Perhaps Redwall [iwasn't[/i back to normality.

• • •

The room still smelt of blood and death. An effort had been made to clean out the infirmary and the rest of the second floor rooms. A through scrubbing of mint soap only masked the smell. The vampire bats had stored bodies of birds and Abbeybeasts in here to feed off during the siege. Abbot Reamus thanked Martin's will for letting the fear end, yet he still couldn't forget the faces lost.

He couldn't help be wary of a face gained. A body lay in the Infirmary bed, strapped down with sheets. Lily, the infirmary mouse, dabbed the bat's head with a wet cloth. Reamus turned away, consternation on his expression, he began pacing. This was not good. "Lily. This is a lapse in judgment."

"Abbot, with respect, I do not believe this to be a mistake. He is completely restrained and I believe..."

"They viciously ki...sent many of our order to the gates of the Dark Forest before their time. Their dark deeds were found in this very room...such bl...a horrible sight on mine eyes." He shivered. "If the Abbeybeasts knew..."

"Know? Nobeast knows. I believe there is good in /this/ creature."

Such foundation in her tone of confidence. She couldn't know, Reamus decided, she was still young and naive. The safety of the Abbey was on his mind. This unconscious bat was a member of a killing species. No Abbeybeast would accept the knowledge that one of the evil creatures that lay waste to their friends and family could be trusted. Was it even a possibility? The Abbot returned to the bed beside Lily, who still held the cloth, now wringing it in her paws.

As the Abbot looked, it struck him that there was something different about the bat: From its wings drawn in close to this body, to the structure of the skull, the shape of the ears, and color of the fur. He had the image of the leaders face leaping towards him burned into his memory. That image did not match this one.

"I'll meet you this evening, just as the moon rises, here. Don't let anyone in until I return." The Abbot needed to be sure.

• • •

"You are smarter than this Lily."

"So are you."

"Just let me kill it."

"No."

'You don't say 'no', this is not your choice!"

"He's right," Abbot Reamus entered the Infirmary, having listened to part of the argument, "The choice is mine." He looked upon Lily and Markus; Lily sitting on the bed, next to the bat, and Markus with the Sword of Martin in his paw. This was disconcerting. The Abbot knew of the acquaintance of the two mice, and yet he had never been able to place it. He always felt that Lily was unsure and Markus tried his best to woo her. There was no need to bring issue of that up here. That wasn't the Abbot's place. Some issues needed to be resolved in private.

"Please sheathe your sword," Reamus requested, he had a roll of paper underneath one arm and something large covered in cloth balanced on his other paw.

Markus complied. Reamus could almost hear their curiosity about the objects.

"I have done some digging into this issue, quite literally, through the dust of the Gatehouse. Brother Illiam received much reprimand from me in the value of an organized and tidy quarter for storing our valued documents. Still, I found what I needed, from the ancient account of Martin's quest, of a place called Bat Mountpit. There is a colony of bats within the mountains between here and Salamadastron, and by all accounts, they were a prime factor that helped Martin and his companions along their quest..."

"Abbot. With all due respect, this has no standing with this situation and for the safety..."

"I am as responsible for the safety of this Abbey, just as much as you are as Abbey Warrior. Let me continue."

Flustered, Markus backed down under Reamus's hard gaze.

"It is true. If this was a true vampire bat, there is no moral foundations and perhaps no way to defeat his inner instincts. By our definitions, he would be evil and his only fate would be as such." The cloth was pulled from the object, revealing a large jar of yellowed liquid, something floating within. Lily squeaked. It was a vampire bat's head floating with white orbed eyes. "This is the bat Markus kept from killing me. I had Cellarhog Mone to preserve it in a special substance, to remember the creatures of that dark season. But upon looking at it, I noticed it does not match the beast retrained in that bed..." The Abbot pointed out the aspects, "The flatter snout, the smaller incisors, the eye shape, even the fur color is completely different. It can only be concluded that this creature is..."

The Abbot noticed a dark shadow fall over Markus. He was going against the Warrior's wishes and opinion and basically coming out and saying that Markus was wrong. He hesitated. Should he do this? It would be much simpler to dispose of this beast, if not by death, by being exported to some far reaches of Mossflower. No, Lily would never accept that, and if it was possible that this was a good beast turned to the ways of evil... What was there to say this was the same sort as from Bat Mountpit?

He looked down at the bat, such a…tranquil expression. He could never consider bringing harm to this creature.

"This bat is not the same sort of bat. We may be able to cure him."

• • •


End file.
